The Name's Not Reid, It's Teller
by frozenangel1988
Summary: AU. Jackson's younger brother Thomas didn't die in 1990. He was adopted under the name of Spencer Reid. The truth is now coming back to haunt the younger Teller. Which side of the law will he choose? The badge or the leather cut? (On hiatus)
1. Chapter 1

AN: So, recently I've been re-obsessed with Sons of Anarchy and the gorgeousness of Charlie Hunnam and thought how it would be great if Hunnam and Matthew Gray Gubler were on screen together. So, this may contain spoilers for both SOA and CM but it'll probably be a bit AU for both shows. Now, I know that the date of Thomas Teller's birth was sometime in 1984, but I'm moving it to 1982. Reviews are welcome.

-Brittanie

The Name's Not Reid, It's Teller

Chapter One

I wasn't always Spencer Reid. I also wasn't always a Las Vegas native. My father wasn't William Reid and my mother wasn't named Diana. And I wasn't always an only child. I had an older brother that I don't remember too well.

When my father's motorcycle club got deeper and deeper into trouble with other outlaws, my father decided to fake my death and send me away to a smart, normal-on-the-outside couple in the suburbs of Vegas. My mother thought I was dead. My brother thought be failed in his duty of being a protective brother.

At age eight, Thomas Teller died and Spencer Reid was born.

At age twenty-six, I got a phone call from my older brother Jackson. It was then that I questioned what I was doing in the FBI and if I really belonged in Quantico with a fabricated family history or with the truth back in Charming with SAMCRO.

I'm writing all of this down, in a form of letters, like the letters my father wrote that held my secret adoption. In case I die, this shall be the proof, the proof that I am a man struggling to figure out which side of the law I belong on.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Here's Chapter Two. This begins right after Season 4, Episode 9: 52 Pickup of CM and between Season 1&2 of SOA. Also, the episode Memoriam never happened in CM. Let me know what you think.

-Brittanie

Chapter Two

Dr. Spencer Reid was tired. It had been another long case. Another woman saved. This one though, strangely showed an interest in him. An interest that he wasn't sure he wanted to return. As he unlocked the door to his apartment, Reid thought of how beautiful Austin was. How the shape of her lips were stamped on a card in the left inside pocket of his jacket. Once his door was relocked, Reid dropped his leather satchel in the middle of the floor and glanced around his dark, messy apartment that some places held a light layer of dust. He sighed. He'd clean that tomorrow if they didn't get called in for another case. Right now, he needed to clean himself. Reid quickly stripped on his way to the shower.

Reid was finishing up his shower when he heard the shrill sound of his cell phone in his pants pocket in his room. By the third ring, he had wrenched off the shower. By the forth ring, he had slammed his shoulder into the doorjam of the bathroom. By the fifth ring, he saw an unfamiliar number after he extracted the device from his pants on the floor and pushed the 'talk' button.

"Hello?"

"Well, hello. You're a hard man to find." A deep, strong voice greeted Reid from the other end.

"Who is this?" Reid stood up and moved over to sit on his bed.

"You know who this is." The voice continued with a clear air of confidence.

"Um. No. I clearly do not know who this is otherwise I'd have your name programmed in my phone book. So, I suggest you identify yourself before I get a technical analyst that I know loves to dig into people's lives to track you down and charge you with harassing a federal agent." The last bit of Reid's patience was zapped away when the other man's laughter trickled across the line.

"Wow. So, little brother truly is a fed."

"What?"

"You still don't know who I am?"

"No, asshole. I don't."

"Hah. No need to get hostile, Tommy."

"My name isn't Tommy. I don't know who the fuck you are but you clearly have the wrong number." Reid gripped the phone harder.

"It's me, little bro. Jackson. And I most certainly know who you are, or at least who you used to be. Thomas Nicholas Teller. I called you TNT."

With that nickname, it all came rushing back. All the things his smart-beyond-reason brain have strived to repress. His blonde haired, blued eyed brother. Jax. Their father's need to remove Thomas from the future of crime that Jax would fall into. A fierce mother with eyes for her husband's best friend. His hand drifted toward the now exposed scar across the skin that covered his heart.

"I don't know what you're talking about. My name is Spencer Reid."

"Don't give me that shit, little bro. I know about the adoption. How dad faked your death. Faked a heart attack. Faked the coma. I found out how he paid off the doctors to tell Mom that you died in the middle of the night. Still confuses me how the hell you two faked the viewing. The funeral, yeah. But the viewing? Did you lay in the coffin and not breath while I kissed what I thought was your dead forehead?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Stop lying, Tommy! See, I have my own tech genius named Juice. He tracked it all down. You don't belong in fucking Quantico. You belong here in Charming. With your family. With your mother, brother and nephew." Jax was getting angry. Reid had to control himself from trembling from the extreme mixture of love and hate laced in his brother's voice.

"Nephew?"

"Hah! Got you, you little fuck!"

"Shit!"

"Hahahah. You little shit. You're alive!"

"Shit." Reid wanted to throw the phone at the wall. Erase all evidence of this damning phone call.

"My son's name is Abel. You need to come out here to see him. He's adorable. Got the same heart this that supposedly killed you."

"I…I….uh…"

"Come on Tommy!"

"I can't. I can't leave my life here."

"You either come here or I'll hop on a fucking plane tonight and come to your fucking office in your oh-so-precious Virginia and out you to everyone you know. What would your boss say if he knew that you were actually the son of one of the founders of the outlaw club Sons of Anarchy?"

"Don't do that. Don't you fucking do that."

"Fine, little brother. Let me know when your plane is in and I'll come pick you up. I gotta go. Abel just woke up and Tara is at work."

"His mom's name is Tara?"

"Um. No. It's a long story that I'll tell you once your smart ass is here in Charming. Take some vacation time, kid."

"Fine."

"Bye."

Reid hung up the phone and laid back on his bed, the towel sliding toward the ground.

"FUCK!" He clawed his hand into his hair. "FUCK. Fuck. FUCK!"

Reid picked up the phone again and hit the second number on speed dial and waited for the other end to connect.

"Hey Hotch. I…uh…need to take some time off."


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Kinda not sure where I want to go with this story, so I've been kinda stuck. Short chapter, yes, but needed to get it done to move further. Let me know what you think. Suggestions? Hates? Loves? Anything? Drop me a review. Enjoy.

-Brittanie

Chapter 3

Reid didn't miss the NorCal heat. He was already beginning to miss the snowy air he had left back in Virginia and he had only just stepped off of the plane. Once he had all his belongings straight, he made his way outside and was greeted by no less than twenty hard looking men in leather cuts lounging on motorcycles. With a sigh, he walked over to the only one that could possibly be his older brother.

"Jackson."

A wide, smug smile broke over the blonde man's face.

"Well, boys, look who's back from the dead. Tommy fucking Teller."

Reid felt himself being enveloped in a multiple man bear hug, constricting his air. He thought he was going to collapse until he could feel the air dribbling back into his lungs.

"Jackson, I prefer Reid or Spencer. I haven't been Tommy in years and it'll take a lot to get used to it." Not that he wanted to get used to it.

"Alright. Alright. Fine, little brother. We'll do it your way. Don't expect Gemma to be so understanding though." He laughed. "And it's Jax."

"I know. I'm expecting her to smack me in the face, really."

"Ain't that true, brother. So, we brought a truck because I doubt you want to ride bitch with any of us. You may be a removed Teller, but you're still a Teller." Jax pointed over to a white and orange beat up tow truck parked a little ways away with a gruff old man sitting in the cab.

"You should remember Piney."

"Of course I remember Piney. I haven't forgotten anything."

"Yeah, sometimes I forget about that super memory shit of yours."

A tall, ugly man that Reid recognized as Clay Morrow walked over to the two brothers. How he hated that man.

"Welcome back, son." Clay put his hand on Reid's shoulder.

"I'm not your son."

"Legally you are."

"I never knew you to really care about what's legal, Clay."

"Oh ho! I see he got Gemma's temper. This oughta be fun."

"Yeah, Gemma's temper alright. Don't expect me to call you dad."

Reid picked up his bags and started walking to the tow truck, only to hear mumblings of "Fucking hell." "Tough kid." "That little asshole." "You sure he's not your fraternal twin, Jax?"

He slid into the passenger side seat of the cab after throwing his luggage in the back. Piney didn't look to happy to see him.

"Sorry, kid. I was hoping they would never find out."


End file.
